


Sleep Tight, Thief

by nitamar



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-02
Updated: 2012-10-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 10:54:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5624437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nitamar/pseuds/nitamar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The TARDIS comforts the Doctor after Manhattan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep Tight, Thief

 

A/N Had a sudden urge to write something at 3 in the morning. Apologies in advance for any typos, grammar mistakes or things that don't make sense. I may edit it in the morning. Based on a few headcanons I picked up from everyone since Saturday. Shoutout to [](http://a-phoenixdragon.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://a-phoenixdragon.livejournal.com/)**a_phoenixdragon** for helping me come up with the dream idea.   
Hope it helps you cheer up a bit. I did.

 

 

The Tardis hums as the Doctor spins around the console pulling various levers. He almost trips, breaking the continuity this particularly complex operation requires and now has to start again.

  
"Oh damn it!" he snaps.Karate-chopping the console only to hurt his hand in the process. It is the forth time he's done that. However he try he can't find that extra spring in his steps that makes him worth 6 time lords. He feels alone. He's been mostly travelling alone for the last 300 odd years, but this is different. It is different when you know they are all out there, that you can go back and pick them up or just look from afar whenever you want to, compared to you HAVE TO be alone.It's the potential that makes the melancholy something bigger than it holds. Voluntary and forced, that's the whole world's difference.

  
He thinks it must be the TWO farewell tours he did in the last 300 years. Something he never did. Looking them all from afar. They all have their own happy little life now. They are all good, fine, at least at the point in their timeline he visited. That's what changed him. He's envious. Looking at them busying out and about without him. They are all fine without him. He always had this optimism that he's the most important part to them, in a most un-arrogant way. That he offers them wonderful things, he makes their otherwise pitiful ape lives so much better. They miss him dearly. They stay up all night thinking about him when they left (something in his mind tells him it's not true. He pushed the voice away. Thank you for the input.) But it turns out that's all lies he tells himself. That's all illusions. He's just an arrogant prat. 

  
The Doctor can feel the depression press onto his hearts. He sits down, closes his eyes. And gives in. He lets the darkness crush his ribcage and eats up his hearts hungrily. He twitches as a shot of pain tears apart his chest. He breaths evenly. Welcoming the pain and the drowning sensation  It feels good. Like release. Like finally letting go of the breath he'd been holding for gallifrey knows how long. He senses something wet on his face without noticing when they appeared. He lets it stay there. Until it gains too much weight and slid down his chin, splashing on the tweed. He can almost hear the splash without looking. And knows the tear breaks into tiny little droplets, some of them sinks into the fabric, some clings on the surface.

It's time to let go.

It's time to let them all go and start anew.

  
"You know how to do it, dear. Quit laughing at me and do it yourself." he says tiredly, most of the syllables got choked in his throat. But the TARDIS console comes to life on its own accord. An image starts to form in a whirl of static. "Just send it. I don't want to watch it." The image freezes in mid-formation, as if asking him if he's sure. "Yes, just send them to her dreams. The appropriate times. You decide." His voice is working better now, though still feeble. Good thing the old girl's psychic. He just says things out loud to let the sound waves fill the empty space a bit. The TARDIS vwrooped and whirred for a long time before finally stops. Making the silence and stillness ever more present. "Done?" he asks, raising his head and looks at the console with a slightly confused expression, as if he had been asleep. The TARDIS gave no response. "Did you just send ME a dream as well?" he says suspiciously. His voice almost normal now, plus a hint of sleep. Still no response. "That's not right. What were they thinking! Paradox! Fixed point in time!" he's almost shouting, a pout forming on his lips. "Adopting River! As if this whole thing is not complicated enough!" He stands up and makes gestures with his long fingers to emphasize his point. Sexy merely hums. "How do you know that you can't reach into that timeline." He frowns again at the warm yellow glow that appears to be giggling and playing with the corner of her clothes. "River?" he says, the sentence halfway between a question and a statement. "You got it from River's memory oh you beauty!" He bounces to the column nearest, hugs it tight and kisses it repeatedly. "Oh." he lets out a breathe he doesn't know he's holding. He clings onto the column as all the strength in his body is suddenly drained and he is boneless. "You beauty..." he mumbles before slipping onto the glass floor and falls asleep there and then. The TARDIS rolls her eyes as this is beyond her to make him comfy in this position. The Doctor smiles in his sleep and snuggles closer to the floor. And the TARDIS knows when he wakes he'll cherish it as a blissfully dreamless sleep.


End file.
